


Clockwork Family

by stendahls



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Family Feels, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 21:12:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18725086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stendahls/pseuds/stendahls
Summary: Five adjusts to life after the apocalypse and struggles to find his place within the family.





	Clockwork Family

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Brief, vague mention of suicide.

Five was doing fine.

He was doing perfectly fine.

He was the perfect image of composure. Settling in after the apocalypse had been hard, there were burned bridges to be mended, wrongs to be set right, and new trauma to come to terms with. Arguments broke out frequently, as did tender heart to hearts. But while his siblings shifted and changed around him, trying to come to terms with their new reality, Five remained the same. He watched from the sidelines as his siblings learned to live life anew.

They had enough to deal with, why should he bother them with his problems? He had spent the majority of his life alone. He didn’t need to rely on other people to solve things for him. Even so, he felt his composure slip sometimes. He was caught in an eternal battle with himself, torn between getting too close and staying too far away. He loved his family, but getting attached was dangerous. Why settle into this amazing new life when it could be gone within an instant? Every time he felt himself getting close to his siblings, something within him revolted, shredding his stomach with anxiety and clenching his muscles until he sometimes couldn’t even bear to look his siblings in the eye. He loved them so much. He didn’t want to love them that much.

So he hid.

During the times when his siblings would leave home, going out in various pairs and groups to get food, go shopping, or do whatever else it was that normal people did, he hid the tears. He hid the way seeing his siblings walk away from him, even just for a trip to the grocery, made him feel terrified. During the times when they were arguing, he hid the way his hands shook with anger, and the way he wanted nothing more than to scream his fury at them for wasting what precious time they had together. He hid everything. The only person he couldn’t truly hide from was Klaus, but that was because they had too much in common. Klaus always seemed to pick up on when the past was haunting him too much. It was a sad little game they played, with both of them acknowledging the shaking hands, the empty gazes, the flinches and jumps at mundane sounds, but neither of them knowing how to comfort the other. They suffered from vastly different pasts, but at least they suffered together. However, Klaus never made much of an effort to hide it. He had always been an open book, and he remained so in their new life. Five envied that. When Klaus felt something, he said it, and it seemed as though he never feared the backlash. In this new life his siblings listened to him, and he never wasted a second of that.

But Five couldn’t afford to be listened to. Spending time around his siblings was like walking through a museum during an earthquake. He studied each exhibit, savoring his time with each one, admiring every beautiful detail and imperfection the art held within it. Such beautiful displays. The vibrant colors in the brushstrokes of every painting, and the sharp edges of every cold marble statue took his breath away. Yet he remained separate, resigned to the role of impermanent patron. He wanted to be a part of it. He wanted to cross through the velvet rope for the first time in decades, to splash the paintings with his own colors, to chisel himself into the statues, to make a place for himself among the things he loved and admired so much. But the floor kept rumbling, and the dust falling from the ceiling coated each work of art with a thin barrier that reminded him that he did not belong there. The art was beautiful, and fleeting, so he stood back and enjoyed as much as he could before it was inevitably taken away by forces outside of his control.

The longer they spent in this new timeline, the more anxious he got. Every passing second seemed like a countdown. He knew things could go south at any moment, and so he stayed prepared. He kept this hidden from his siblings, of course, he couldn’t let them know how afraid he was, but he took measures to stay ready in case anything new arose. He slept with a pistol under his pillow and placed others strategically throughout the house. He faked breaking the handle on the front door so he could install new locks. At one point he ventured into the monitor room and began to turn the cameras in their bedrooms back on, hoping to have eyes on his siblings at all times, but he forced himself to leave them off for the sake of their personal space. He settled for turning on the ones in the hallways and major common rooms instead.

Yet nothing happened. Each day passed uneventfully, and each day was more mundane than the last. They had even settled into a steady weekly routine, including movie nights on Mondays and Thursdays. With every bad movie and boring trip to the grocery store, he grew more nervous. He couldn’t stand it. Their time together was quickly diminishing and his siblings didn’t seem to notice or care.

His paranoia only grew as time went on. There was no way to tell if The Commission had been entirely destroyed, and there was no way to tell how long his family could remain undetected. Would they come for them quickly? Would they kick down the front door and raze the mansion to the ground? Or would they come in quietly? Would they sneak in during the dead of night and press silenced pistols to their heads? It was impossible to tell, so he remained on guard at all times. He sat closer to the doors, he mapped out an exit strategy in every room he entered, and he avoided sleeping as much as possible. Unfortunately, the more prepared he became, the harder it got to hide. He was so exhausted that monitoring his behavior grew more difficult with each emotion he felt.

The thoughts wouldn’t stop terrorizing him, playing in a consistent loop, never changing, never faltering.

_This will end soon. You will lose them again. Don’t get attached. It will hurt. This will end soon. You will lose them again. Don’t get attached. It will hurt. This will end soon. You will lose them again. Don’t get attached. It will hurt. This will end soon. You will lose them again. Don’t get attached. It will hurt. This will end soon. You will lose them again. Don’t get attached. It will hurt. This will end soon. You will lose them again. Don’t get attached. It will hurt. This will end soon. You will lose them again. Don’t get attached. It will hurt. This will end soon. You will lose them again. Don’t get attached. It will hurt._

He stopped paying attention to his family. He stopped trying to be a part of it entirely. Every moment he spent caring was another dagger that would soon be driven into his heart. He felt like a ghost in his own house. He wondered if this was how Vanya felt; Never seen, never heard, wanting to be a part of something there was no use being a part of. He knew it would be easier to leave, to go out on his own, hide away somewhere where he didn’t need to worry about his siblings, didn’t need to watch them take everything they had for granted. Maybe he would do that. Maybe he would leave, maybe he would run away like he always did, maybe he would cut the waiting short, maybe he would…

He couldn’t. For all the times he had faced it, and for all the things he knew about it, he still feared death. His fear was an embarrassment, but not even The Commission could get rid of that part of him. And even if he didn’t fear it, his family needed him. They needed him to protect them from the fast coming future. He couldn’t run away again.

The moment he broke, he was in the dining room, sitting still and staring silently at the plate in front of him as his siblings fought. Vanya had made some sarcastic comment towards Luther, who had jokingly taken offense. Diego missed the joke and jumped to the defense of Vanya. Luther defended himself against the defense. Vanya was overshadowed, as always, by the fighting of her brothers.

“Oh, what are you gonna do? You gonna lock me up in the basement? Oh shit, I’m sorry, I forgot you reserve that special privilege for Vanya.”

“That’s not what I meant and you fucking know it!”

“I know exactly what you meant, you self righteous prick!”

“You’re such an asshole! Why don’t you put your hero complex aside for one second and grow up?”

“I have a hero complex? That’s rich, coming from daddy’s favorite.”

Five didn’t even realize what he had done until he was staring at the shards of a broken plate and feeling the burn of a dying scream in his throat. He had picked up the plate and smashed it on the table, silencing the room with a deafening, wordless scream. He looked down at his bloodied hands, sliced roughly by the smashed ceramic, and felt as though his heart had stopped. He couldn’t handle this. He couldn’t breathe. His siblings were trying to hurt each other, and he wanted to tell them to stop, he wanted to tell them why he wanted them to stop, but he was no longer in the dining room. The wasteland burned around him. He tried to stand up and leave the table, but his knees were weak, and he fell to them. He was exactly where he had been before. On his knees, staring at his bloodied hands, surrounded by a pile of his siblings corpses. He couldn’t tell if he was crying or not. Did he cry the first time? He couldn’t remember. One of his siblings placed a hand on his shoulder and he screamed, curling into a ball, hiding himself yet again. The dead weren’t supposed to be able to move.

It was Klaus who had leapt into action, shoving Diego away harshly to stop him from touching Five again. He commanded his other siblings to stay quiet as he dropped to his knees in front of his older brother. He didn’t touch him, instead choosing to speak softly to the crumpled form in front of him. Five had never looked nor felt smaller than in that moment.

“Five, it’s me, Klaus. It’s your brother. Do you know where you are? You’re in the dining room of our house. Can you hear me? You’re in the house.” He spoke calmly, although he was visibly afraid. His siblings all shared harsh glances, both in shock at Five’s current condition, and in shock that Klaus actually knew how to handle this situation when none of them did.

Five shook his head and mumbled something that sounded like a “no.”

Klaus leaned down, hoping to somehow get himself into his brother’s field of view, but his face was buried between his arms and the floor. “Yes, you’re in the house, you’re with your siblings. My name is Klaus Hargreeves, I am your brother, and I am alive. I’m alive and I’m with you, and you are in the dining room. We are alive and we are in the dining room.” He continued speaking, rambling on for several minutes, repeating the obvious facts until Five’s breathing slowed, and his shaking stopped.

When Five looked up, he saw Klaus’ concerned face, with the rest of his siblings crowded behind him. Luther looked close to tears, while Allison appeared to have already been crying for a while. Vanya rocked gently on her heels as Diego quickly spun a knife in his hand. They all looked like they cared so much. He moved himself to a sitting position, attempting to wipe his tears but succeeding only in smearing blood on his cheeks. He winced at the sting against the cuts on his hands. He sat for a long moment as he stared at the floor in front of him and tried to comprehend what had just happened. He wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words. The silence dragged on.

Diego was the first to break it, asking gently, “Are y-you okay?”

Five didn’t answer. Instead, he moved forward, quickly grabbing Klaus and burying himself in his brothers chest as he hugged him tightly. Five was so small that he had halfway crawled into his lap, but he didn’t care. The closer the better. He reveled in what he found in that embrace. The warmth, the touch, the way Klaus’ chest moved as he gave a confused and awkward chuckle, and the way, hesitantly, he returned the hug. He was alive. They were both alive.

Maybe he had been foolish thinking that he needed to hide. Although moments ago they had been arguing, it was obvious now from the looks on their faces that they cared. As Five pulled away gently, he realized he had gotten blood all over his sibling’s white blouse, and began to apologize to him. He was shushed before he could finish the apology. Klaus reached forward and gave him a short, gentle hug before standing up. Before anyone had time to ask Luther had already left to get the first aid kit.

His siblings made small talk as he sat down in a kitchen chair, opposite the one he was in previously, and let himself be bandaged up. They cracked jokes to ease the tension, but Five’s silence was deafening. It was obvious they were all waiting on the edge of their seats for an explanation that he wasn’t going to give. Luther knelt in front of him and bandaged him up in silence. Once it was clear that he wasn’t going to talk, one by one the others began to leave the room. Vanya and Allison made up excuses for things they needed to do, Diego left without words after giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, and Klaus loudly and explicitly announced that he was leaving because he was bored.

When Luther had finished his bandaging he moved to stand up, but was stopped when Five grabbed his hand and held it tightly, ignoring the pain it sent through the cuts in his palm. He didn’t want to be untouched right now. Luther hesitated awkwardly as he remained in a position halfway between a sit and a stand. After a few moments he realized his brother wasn’t going to let go of his own volition, and so he sat cross legged on the floor. The silence remained.

“Is it because you were alone?” Luther asked bluntly. He always managed to find the most brutally straightforward way to ask things, like his brain wasn’t capable of formulating anything but the main point.

Five nodded. He cleared his throat a few times in an attempt to speak, but his scream had left him hoarse, and each honest word he thought about speaking caught on the jagged edges of his throat before it could escape through his mouth. He said nothing.

“I still don’t really know what to do about stuff like this,” He shrugged, “I got so used to being so far away from everyone that being touched feels wrong. Sometimes Allison holds my hand and it’s like I wasn’t meant to be that way, do you know what I mean?” He didn’t wait for an answer before he continued, “But then sometimes I feel like I can’t let go. Like if i don’t hold onto her with everything I have then I might not get to touch anyone ever again.”

He understood exactly what he meant. “I don’t know when you’re going to die,” the older man said, voice barely above a whisper due to the pain, both emotional and physical, that made every sentence spoken a struggle.

His brother seemed surprised. He sputtered for a few moments, trying to understand what that meant before it visibly clicked. “So you don’t know how close to us you should get?”

“When I knew when the apocalypse was going to happen,” He rhythmically squeezed his brother’s hand, a small movement to keep himself grounded, “I knew I shouldn’t care. There was no point letting myself get attached to people I barely knew and who would be dead within the week. I had a focus, a purpose. It was about family, but there was no time to be a family. But who knows how long this will last? How am I supposed to know what to do about this?” He got more worked up the more he spoke, his raspy voice growing louder with each word.

“Why shouldn’t you care now?”

He scoffed. Of course he wouldn’t understand. There was much more at stake here besides knowing whose hand to hold. However the more he tried to find a way to explain his viewpoint, the more he realized that he didn’t have a good argument.

“I mean, you said it yourself, we could be gone tomorrow, or we could be here forever. Either way, do you really want to have wasted that time trying to be alone?” Luther had a sad, empty look on his face, like he was speaking from experience. “No matter what happens, you’re going to regret taking this time with everyone for granted,” He looked away guiltily.

“Hypocrite.”

“I know.”

The two shared a small smile as they explored this common ground between them.

As much as he wanted to reach out, to let himself love those around him, the very idea of it made his chest ache with fear. “How do I know that they even want me to try to get close? I’m not like you,” he let go of his brother’s hand, moving to pick at a loose string on his sweater, “I don’t have someone to tell me when they want me to hold their hand. I was gone so long, you guys barely even know who I am. What if you don’t want me once you get to know me?” He tried to tap his foot to release some of his nervous energy, but he was too short, so he settled for swinging it through the air where it couldn’t reach the floor. He realized he must have looked even more like a little kid than he normally did. He stopped moving.

Luther looked disappointed that his hand had been released, “They love you, Five,” He said it like it was the most obvious fact in the world, like he was shocked that his brother could possibly believe anything otherwise.

“You don’t know that,” He shook his head and began to stand up, ending the discussion awkwardly and abruptly, clearly guided by his fear, “I’ll give some thought to what you said, maybe we can discuss it more if I change my mind,” He started to walk away, but stopped when Luther suddenly grabbed his hand in a reflection of his own action from earlier.

“I know because they’ve told me,” He sounded offended, his voice reflecting the hurt on his face. “I know because every time we go out, we have conversation after conversation about what we could have possibly done wrong to make you not want to be with us,” The gentle reassurance of his tone had dissolved into a harsh lecture, as it was prone to doing, “I know because last night Klaus asked me what he did wrong to make you ignore him and I couldn’t give him an answer,” He stood up, and if Five didn’t know better it could have been taken as a form of intimidation, but it was clear that he was simply passionate. His body language leaned inwards, and he seemed to shy away from his older brother as he spoke. “You’re not the only person left anymore, Five, the world doesn’t revolve around you.”

Five paused. His brother was right, like it or not. In all his self pity and doubt, he hadn’t stopped to think that maybe the distance hurt his siblings too. He hadn’t considered that they loved him enough to miss him in the first place. It had been too long since he had been around other human beings who were actually capable of caring about him. He looked upwards to meet his brother’s eyes.

“When you hold Allison’s hand, how do you know it’s the right thing to do?”

Luther shrugged, “Because I remember all the years I spent wishing I had done it sooner.”

Five nodded. For the first time in months, the original loop in his head stopped, and was replaced with a new one.

_I’m alive. He’s alive. My family is alive. They want me to be alive with them._


End file.
